Cardinal Rule
by SakuraMinamino
Summary: The enterprise is sent on a mission; one that is strikingly similar to Tarsus IV. Trapped on the warring planet, Kirk must struggle through his demons to keep Spock and his landing team safe. Spock has recently found he has feelings for his captain and is determined to stay away. Can he when he sees Jim falling into the memories of his horrid past?
1. Calm before the storm

**Okay so this is my first Star Trek Story and non anime world that I have written. Please be gentle with me and help me improve. (Bows deeply)**

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><p>Admiral Komack threw back another glass of whisky, relishing the burn of the amber liquid as it went down. A weary sigh escaped the middle aged man as his shaking hand reached for the crystal bottle to pour himself another shot. With a newly refilled glass, he leaned back into his overly plush desk chair and glanced at the PADD lying a foot away from him on his desk. Just seeing the offending piece of technology made a scowl cross his features. Still, he had to respond to the message.<p>

"Lights at 30 percent." Light filled the previously dark room so that he could read without straining his eyes. Running his hand through his graying hair, he picked up the PADD quickly rereading the invitation. Another commendation ceremony being planned for that punk everyone kept calling "the Golden Boy of Starfleet."

He couldn't for the life of him understand why everyone was so enthralled with that kid. He was a terror at the academy. Sure his tests were top of the class even competing with the top academy test scores that were set by his current Vulcan First Officer a few years back, but he wreaked havoc on the campus to teachers and other students alike. Yet when he cheated on the Kobayashi Maru and got caught, he was awarded the commendation for creative thinking.

That was his problem. Captain Kirk always did whatever he wanted and got awarded for it. He saved the planet from being sucked into a black hole, but what about how he got there? He went against regulations to board a Federation ship, staged a mutiny against the acting captain, emotionally compromised said acting captain, and disobeyed a direct order from a captain and fought Nero head on, putting the crew in unnecessary harm. He couldn't even stomach the things that happened with Khan. He flushed out a corrupt admiral, but not before almost causing a war with the Klingons. Then he had the audacity to literally cheat death. Of course he also got commendations for those actions as well.

During his short captaincy, he continuously went against regulations, omitted things from his reports, occasionally violating the prime directive, and all he does is get encouraged by the other admirals. He was headstrong, rash, stubborn, and relied on his luck to save him. The kid didn't know how to lose. No one punished him for his actions. And one day, it was going to land them in a shit storm. And when that day came, Kirk would be at a loss for what to do and would be unable to do what a real captain needs to do. His façade will crumble, leaving his much more capable first officer to pick up the pieces of his incompetence.

Setting his glass down, he picked up his PADD and scrolled through Kirk's file. He knew exactly how to show the admiralty that Kirk wasn't ready to take this responsibility. That he needed to go through the ranks like every other cadet. It's been a year and a half since his promotion and the start of the five year mission was just underway. He pulled up another file, scanning over the new mission that had just appeared in his inbox. As he read, his scowl slowly turned into a smirk. He knew exactly what mission he was going to send the Enterprise on.

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><p>"Goddammit Jim! How the hell do you manage to piss off every primitive indigenous species we meet?!" Dr. McCoy panted, holding his satchel bag to his body as he and his two companions ran on the uneven, dry, dessert like terrain beside him. The heavily oxygenated atmosphere combined with his heavy breathing was making him light headed, and the two suns shining brightly above them wasn't helping him feel any better. The disheveled man chanced a glance behind him and sure enough, a mob of angry yellow skinned aliens were still chasing them with their spears in hand.<p>

"Hey it's not my fault this time!" Captain James T. Kirk gave his friend a tired grin as he shifted the unconscious security member on his back. "It's that damn pollen."

"I am too old to be running for my goddamned life. I swear to God if we get through this, I'm going to rethink my friendship with you."

Jim let out a small snort. "You always say tha-"

"I mean it this time! Are you done with that damn contraption yet Spock?" McCoy snapped, tripping slightly as the soft earth gave way underneath him.

Spock was running effortlessly, seemingly unaffected by the planetary conditions. In one hand he held a small, grey, metal box with an assortment of colorful wires coming out of the top. In his other hand was a handmade soldering iron. "I estimate it's completion to be in 30.26 seconds Doctor."

Jim turned his head to look at Spock, wishing him to hurry up. It was hard to run without breathing deeply, and the ensign on his back was heavier than he looked, and they had already been running for 5 minutes now. He wasn't sure how much longer he could run. He had to resist taking a deep breath. Just 30 more seconds. "Don't rush it Spock. If you do it wrong, it could kill them."

"I am quite aware of that Captain. I have already run the calculations 15 times." Dark chocolate eyes met Jim's sky blue ones before looking back at the device.

Jim focused on his steps, each one becoming increasingly difficult. The earth was dry and crumpled under their steps. With the added weight of the man on his back, he was sinking into the dirt more than Spock or Bones, making it twice as difficult to run. "Are you sure you want to implement this plan captain? I estimate that the percentage of your survival to be-"

"I don't want to know Spock." Jim risked a look behind him to see one of them holding a phaser. "Starfleet is going to kill me."

"We are approaching the checkpoint, Captain. Sub-space communication interference is clearing up."

"Bones, take Ensign Jenkins. Spock will go first to make sure it's clear."

The good doctor grumbled under his breath, taking the man onto his back. The moment they reached the crater, Jim pushed Bones and the ensign down into it as a phaser shot just missed the two by mere seconds. Jim kept running. They were after him. "Go with Bones, Spock."

"Captain, I cannot in good conscience leave you alone on the planet with the indigenous life forms. As I am more acclimated to a desert environment, I must insist that I be the one to-"

"Forget it Spock. I'm not putting you in danger. Go with McCoy. I don't want you near incase this goes wrong." There was hesitation on Spock's part and a flash of uncertainty in his eyes. "Don't make me make it an order Mr. Spock." Jim didn't wait for Spock to comply with his request. He grabbed the box out of Spock's hand, his fingers accidentally brushing against the Vulcan's palm as he did, before he ran ahead.

Without the weight of the ensign on his back, he found a second wind easily, picking up the pace of his steps. All he had to do was press the button on the device and throw it into the mob behind him. Any extra distance he could get between him and the angry natives would be beneficial and lessen any possible damage to him.

Just as he reached a hundred paces, Jim felt a sharp pain blast through his shoulder. Instinctively, he bit his lip, swallowing the pain. There was no question it was a phaser wound. He had no time to analyze the damage though. He forced his legs to keep going. Just another 50 paces and the others would be clear of the detonation zone. If the landing party had been beamed up upon contact, then it wasn't a problem, but there was no guarantee that the others were beamed up immediately.

Twenty paces left and Jim started up the device. The box in his hand whined, the lights blinking erratically as it charged. Mentally, the captain started the countdown.

Seven steps left before he had to throw the device. A spear grazed his side, throwing him off balanced. The unsteady ground was unrelenting, giving way under his faltering steps. Jim fell forward, his arms reaching out to catch himself. Most of his weight landed on his injured arm. His vision went white from the pain, but he stopped himself from falling completely, still on his feet. He couldn't afford to fall. The device had to be thrown in five seconds. Pulling his feet back under him, he pushed forward, turning just enough to gauge how hard he needed to throw.

The earth shook, one of this planet's many and frequent earthquakes. The timing of it was ill placed as it happened just as he was throwing the box. He felt himself falling; however Jim knew he would not be able to get back up if he did. He was too light headed from the atmosphere and injuries. The world was spinning around him.

The dark yellow sand came rushing toward him. The captain waited for the impact of the ground to come. Instead, he felt cool familiar hands wrap around him, steadying him, helping him to keep moving.

A couple unsure steps later, the device detonated. A high pitch noise emanated from the box. The frequency that could not be heard by human ears, but the pain it cause when it resonated with the nearby life forms was very real. The natives cried out in various shrieks and moans. All of them clutching their heads and dropping to their knees.

"Spock to Enterprise, two to beam up." Spock's voice came through the ringing in Kirk's ears. The device was working on him too even if he could not hear it. His head was pounding as if it would explode any minute. He could only imagine how Spock was holding up.

He welcomed the familiar feel of the transporter pulling at his molecules. Relaxing, Jim closed his eyes.

Spock felt his captain drift into unconsciousness before the image of the planet's surface disappeared from his vision, so he was prepared to bear Jim's weight when they both rematerialized onto the transporter pad upon the Enterprise.

McCoy was already waiting for them with his medical staff beside him. Just the sight of them made him go off on a tirade of curses and illogic human colloquialisms.

"I swear that kid is going to be the death of me. I'm gone for two minutes and look what happens," the doctor murmured, waving his medical tricorder over Jim's form as he was loaded into a stretcher. "Even the devil's luck has to run out at some point. What the hell is he going to do then?"

"Will he be alright, Doctor?" Spock watched the older man scowl.

"Yeah, he'll be up and running the ship in a day or so. I might have to hypo him to keep him in bed though." A mischievous glint flickered in McCoy's eyes at the idea.

"May I remind you Doctor McCoy that using hypos to intentionally keep a patient under when it serves no medical purpose is frowned upon even in human society?"

The doctor's scowl only deepened. "Then maybe I should just keep him tied to the biobed. You know Jim won't sit still the moment he wakes up. The idiot would walk around with internal bleeding until he passed out if he could get away with it, and you and I both know he has tried."

Spock considered the statement. With a small nod of acknowledgment, he responded. "I concede to your argument and judgment doctor."

"You damn right you concede. Now I better see you in sickbay by the time I finish up with Jim."

"I am in no need of medical attention doctor. I am quite functional."

The good doctor brushed off his comment with his own observations. "Like hell you are. You're bleeding from the ears, you're swaying on your feet, and don't forget, I was down on that god forsaken planet with you as they tied you to the wooden post in the middle of the village and beat you for looking like one of their evil spirits until Jim managed to convince them otherwise. You may be 'functional', but you are not operating at optimal capacity either. Don't make me make it an order Commander." McCoy left the transporter room, scowling at Spock one last time before the automatic door closed behind him.

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><p>"I'm fine Bones. Get that thing out of my face already." Jim had awakened by the time Bones came to look over his captain's treatment. As usual, the blonde captain had tried to escape sickbay the moment he had regained consciousness. It took waving a hypo in his face and several threats of injecting him with embarrassing diseases to get him to stay put.<p>

"Don't give me that Jim. I had to patch you up _again_. I don't know how Spock puts up with your childish antics all the time."

Jim made a face. "I'm not that bad."

"Really? Because the hole in your shoulder says otherwise. And don't you even start," the doctor interrupted the man on the biobed when he opened his mouth to protest. "How often have you ended up in med bay from supposedly peaceful missions? I have the entire staff on alert the moment you say you're going to beam down. Do you have a death wish? Do you want me to die from stress?"

"What did you expect me to do Bones? Let the natives destroy themselves under the influence of those spores? They are just entering the Iron Age, starting their civilization. I had to fix it."

The doctor just sighed. "I know Jim. You did the right thing, but sometimes I think you jump into danger head first without thinking."

"And that's why you're here Dr. McCoy. To patch me up, so I can save the world."

McCoy gave him his infamous scowl just as Spock entered med bay. "There you are you green blooded hobgoblin. Go sit down on a bed, and I'll get to you the moment I finish up with this infant."

"Doctor, referring to the captain as an infant no matter how appropriate the term may apply to his often erratic behavior is inappropriate when addressing a senior officer." The response to Spock's statement was an exasperated eye roll.

"Just sit down Spock."

The Vulcan stared at Jim for a moment before responding. "Doctor as I told you before, I am perfectly fine. The only thing I am in need of is meditation. Now if you will excuse me Doctor, Captain, I have duties I must attend to." Spock turned on his heal and left before the doctor could say anything.

"Damn hobgoblin and his Vulcan mind voodoo. Why bother coming to sickbay if he's just going to refuse and walk out? I'm going to have to threaten him with pulling medical code again." He muttered under his breath as he checked the dermal regenerator's work. "It will be a little sore. You have a choice, pills or hypo for the pain."

"Pills," was his immediate reply. He didn't need his neck sore from McCoy stabbing him again. "Hey, do you think Spock is acting a little weird?"

Raising an eyebrow, the doctor looked up after putting the captain's arm in a sling. "Nothing out of the ordinary for that walking computer."

"Bones," Jim warned.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. No, I haven't seen anything unusual. Why?"

Jim shifted on the bed, careful not to agitate his shoulder. "It's just . . . Spock seems to be more withdrawn lately, his emotions seem to be closer to the surface than he would normally be comfortable with, and he hasn't accepted a chess invitation in weeks."

The doctor stood up and walked across the room to pull out his hidden stash of Andorian Ale. He grabbed two glasses with his free hand and poured himself and his commanding officer a glass, handing one to Jim. "Truth is Dr. M'Benga is also worried. Spock told him that his meditations have not been working as it should thanks to the destruction of Vulcan. His people have been having similar problems over the past year. Spock has been holding up better than his Vulcan counterparts most likely because of his human blood, but without meditation to stabilize that gigantic brain of his, eventually it will catch up to him."

"And you couldn't have told me this sooner?" The glare Jim was sending him did nothing to faze the older man.

"Don't give me that Jim. Doctor, patient confidentiality. I don't go around telling your business to everyone."

"Not everyone, just Spock."

"Because you're a damn child, and I can't babysit you twenty four seven. Spock is willing to do it without complaint."

The captain waved his arm telling him to stop right there. "I get it. Thanks for telling me. Am I good to go?"

"I could try to make you stay, but that would just make us both miserable. Get out of my sickbay. If you come back here before your next physical, I'll make sure you sit through the entire conference call with the admirals without bailing you out early."

"Thanks Bones!" Downing the content of his glass, he gave a quick pat on his friend's back, and he was out of room before McCoy could change his mind.

The Enterprise was as lively as usual. Occasionally, he would receive a salute from a crewman or a friendly smile. He smiled back, unable to return the salutes due to the sling. McCoy told him to keep it on for a day or two to keep strain off his shoulder. Chances were he would take it off early. Without the use of his arm, he felt too vulnerable. Still, it was nice to see the happy faces of his crew, his family.

He stopped at the door to his quarters then glanced at the door next to his. How was Spock doing? He had not seen him outside of duty for three weeks now and truth be told, he missed his friend's dry sense of humor, the games of chess, and the small displays of emotion that slipped into his human eyes. He had meant to reach out over the weeks, but the paperwork never seemed to end. Low and behold a few days ago he found out the admiralty had been making him do twice as much paper work in their effort to keep him busy. He discarded the excess work immediately afterwards. He couldn't wait to have that conversation when he subtly told them he realized what they were up to.

Taking a few steps down the hall he stopped at Spock's door and knocked. He waited. When the familiar deep voice didn't respond, he tried again. Still there was no answer. He was one step away from using his override code when the door swished open and a surprised Spock stood at the door. "Captain? What may I ask brings you here?"

"What? Not going to invite your commanding officer in Mr. Spock?"He teased, a playful look in his eye.

"Pardon me Captain. Please come in." He stepped aside to let his commanding officer through.

Jim wasted no time in taking the invitation, pausing for a moment to notice the red meditating mat laid out on the floor and the lit candles around it. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were meditating. I would have left you alone if I had known."

"I believe I told you I would meditate when you were being examined by the good doctor. There was no point in waiting to do so."

Jim winced slightly. "Yeah, you did say that didn't you. How are your ears by the way?"

"My ears are adequate Captain."

"It's Jim, Spock. We're off duty. How many times must I remind you to call me Jim," he replied exasperated.

"Apparently thirty six times, Ca- . . . Jim."

Jim frowned. Spock had gotten into the habit of calling him Jim off duty, but recently he had deferred back to the formal tones and conversations as if distancing himself from their friendship. It was things like this that caused the captain to worry about the sudden behavioral change of his First Officer.

Still he felt skeptical about his First Officer's health. Turning around he observed the Vulcan's room. "Well Spock, the Christmas party is coming up, and I'm going to need you to play the elf this year. You're going to have to smile and dance for the crew too."

When Spock didn't say anything about how the entire situation was illogical and not apart of his duties, he turned pointing an accusing finger at him. "I knew it! You've been lip reading haven't you? Your ears were damaged."

Spock stood silently, merely raising an eyebrow and admitting to nothing.

"Fine, fine. I get it. You won't go to Bones, and you'll meditate or something to aid the recovery process. How are your meditations going anyway?"

Spock's posture became more rigid at the question and as Jim expected had ended up in uncomfortable waters for the Vulcan. If Spock wanted too, he could be the most stubborn person Jim knew and would hold his thoughts and opinions close to him where no one could reach. Jim hadn't expected him to answer; however, Spock surprised him. Just around the corners of his eyes, weariness slipped onto his stoic face. "Meditation has been proving . . . difficult as of late."

"But you need that to keep your mind ordered right?"

"I will not let it affect my work if that is what you are inquiring, Jim."

"I'm not saying to say that it will Spock. I am worrying about you as a friend." Jim smiled gently.

Spock met his eyes for a moment before looking away. "Of course, Jim."

Spock stood perfectly still as the captain moved about the room. "You center your mind usually before you try to meditate right? What do you do when you have trouble doing that?"

"I have various methods; however, currently those options have proved to be ineffective."

"I see." With careful hands, Jim picked up the antiqued 3D chess board. "Have you tried playing chess to center your mind?"

"I have not considered it as the activity's purpose is to stimulate the mind by thinking and creating strategies to out maneuver your opponent in contrast to focusing on centering within one's self."

Jim grinned. "But it relaxes you doesn't it? Maybe that's all you need. It's worth a try."

Spock considered the proposal. Jim could see it in his eyes. After a moment Spock nodded. "I find the idea agreeable."

"Great." Jim set up the board and Spock sat across from him taking the black side as his usual preference. It was amazing how easy they both fell into the rhythm of the game. Each turn Spock relaxed a little more, letting his guard down, and Jim watched the transformation quietly. Every once in a while the Vulcan would glance up at Jim, and his emotions would flash across his eyes, some he couldn't name.

As the silence settle around them, Spock continued to steal glances at Jim between moves. The human however kept his eyes on the board, considering his next move. Smiling, he moved his queen to queen's level 3. "Tell me what's on your mind Spock."

Spock responded to Jim's move by moving his queen to king's level one. "Do you have a death wish Jim?"

His eyebrows drew together in confusion, still focusing on the board but no longer actually seeing it. "Have you been talking to Bones again?"

"I was the logical choice to activate the sonic generator down on Rana II. I should have assumed the role you took upon yourself."

Jim looked up, the corners of his eyes tight. "Spock, I don't want to talk about this right now. Let's just finish the game alright."

Spock refused to let up, pressing the subject though he knew he should have stopped. "Do you not care about your life, Captain? I have found that if there is an emergency, there is a 89.726 percent chance of you assuming a hazardous role or taking unnecessary risks yourself instead of another crewmember."

Sitting up in his chair straighter, Jim met the Vulcan's gaze head on. "No. It's not that I don't value my life. I value it more than you are anyone on this ship will ever know, but I can never put others to put their life on the line if I can't even do it myself. To me, their lives are worth more to me than my own. Sure, I'm captain. I'm supposed to stay safely on the bridge and have everyone else take the risks, but I became captain, so I can protect those people. If that means I get banged up more often than other captains, so be it. If it means I have a higher chance of getting killed, bring it on. But that is my problem, not yours."

Silence filled the room once again. The weight of Jim's words was heavy in the atmosphere. Spock took his time making his move. "If I had not been there Jim, you would have died."

A chuckle escaped the human as he studied the board. "True and I thank you for saving me once again Mr. Spock. "

"Your thanks are illogical. I was merely performing my duties as your First Officer by ensuring your welfare, Jim."

A smirk tugged at the captain's lips. Reaching over the board, Jim knocked over his white king, admitting defeat. Spock raised an eyebrow a margin, the only sign that the Vulcan had been taken by surprise at the sudden show of surrender. "While an average player would surrender due to the current conditions of the board, this is the first instance you have surrendered in the midst of a game."

"And?"

"Do you, and I quote, 'Do not believe in no-win scenarios'?" Spock quoted back to him the same phrase he had said when confronting the Vulcan over the Kobayashi Maru.

Jim merely shrugged at the question. "I'm tired Spock. It's been a long day. I've been shot at, my ears are still ringing, and the medication Bones gave me is making me sleepy."

"In that case, I will consider this game a stalemate as neither of us are operating at an acceptable capacity at the moment."

"I think I can agree to those terms. I'm going to hit the sack. Make sure you see Bones if you're hearing is still suffering tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning." Jim had just turned to leave Spock's quarters when his communicator chirped. A soft groan escaped the tired human and sent the piece of technology a glare.

"Work never ends does it?" Jim had asked it as a rhetorical question, and he was sure Spock knew the statement meant to be one too.

Never the less, he decided to answer it. "As captain of Starfleet's number one flagship, you are to be available at all times."

"Yeah, yeah. I know Spock. You weren't supposed to say anything." He flipped open his communicator, looking slightly amused at his friend. "Kirk here. What do you need Lieutenant?"

"Starfleet command is transmitting a message for you sir. It's marked urgent. Shall I forward it to ready room one sir?"

"That would be great Lieutenant. I'll be there momentarily. Kirk out." He closed the device and gave Spock a guilty smile. "Looks like I still have duties left before I hit the sack. Try to get some meditating done okay?"

"I will endeavor to do so Captain." His commanding officer rolled his eyes at the formal title again but did not bother to correct him this time.

Jim left the Vulcan's quarters, completely missing the subtle look of longing directed at his back.

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><p><strong>Please review.<strong>


	2. Spock related problems

**okay so I got it out in one week. Pretty inpressive for me actually. I mean besides this summer where I popped a chapter out every week and sometimes multiple times a week, I don't tend to do that. Anyway, enjoy and tell me if I managed to keep everyone in character.**

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><p>"I'm telling you Spock, the admiralty is trying to piss me off. Do you realize how little information they tend to give us about these missions? I mean they tell us to go check out a mining colony and we find out there is an ancient sentient silicon based being that oozes acid. Do you know how many shirts I have to replace each month because we never know what we're dealing with?" Kirk stabbed at his mashed potatoes with his fork, barely looking up at Spock or McCoy. He had been up all night talking his way out of how he didn't directly violate the prime directive, and at the end received vague details of their next mission. It pretty much went, there was something wrong with the planet, go find out what it is and try to fix it.<p>

"Captain, I am certain that if Starfleet had more information, they would inform us. Not doing so is unproductive, essentially dangerous, and illogical."

"Ignore him Spock; he's just cranky from not sleeping." McCoy sent Jim a smirk. "Tell me Jim, when's the last time you slept."

The captain grumbled, turning his aggression onto his chicken. "3 hours before we went down to the planet."

Bones smirk quickly turned into a frown. "Jesus Jim, that was over 50 hours ago."

"52.37 hours to be exact."

Bones sent Spock a glare. "Jim, you need to get some sleep."

"I will after my shift, Bones. It's only another 4 hours."

Bones raised a skeptical eyebrow. "At least eat your lunch. You missed breakfast again."

"Yes mom." Jim rolled his eyes and finally took his first bite of his meal.

Spock rose from his seat, having already finished his salad and plomeek soup. "If you will excuse me Captain, Doctor, I have a few experiments to oversee before I must return to the bridge."

Kirk watched the back of his friend from the table unconsciously stabbing his food again.

"Jim, those potatoes are already mashed and have done you no harm."

"Sorry." He forced himself to let go of his fork. "But you see what I mean right? He said 'a few' not a specific number."

"Yeah, I'm starting to see." Bones reached over, stealing a carrot from Jim's plate, not that the captain minded when his vegetables disappeared. "Seems to me like he's making a good old fashioned human excuse to me."

A quiet sigh escaped him. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

"Don't let it get to you Jim."

He glanced up at his friend, a tired smile pulling at his lips. "I won't. "

Jim finished his meal quickly, forcing it down even though he wasn't hungry. Satisfied that his friend was finally eating, Bones left as well, returning to his sickbay.

The captain remained, observing the lively atmosphere created by his crew: the laughing, the talking, and the occasional drama. Since becoming captain of the _Enterprise_, it had always been him, Bones, and Spock. Bones was always nagging him and calling him crazy for one reason or another, but Jim had grown used to it since they had roomed together at the academy. Having Bones as his CMO was like having a bit of home with him. Spock on the other hand wasn't so easy to get along with at first, and it was difficult being around him so often while adjusting to their new roles as captain and first officer. Spock would question him on everything as he was a stickler for regulations and often disagreed with him for one reason or another, but there had always been some sort of understanding between them after the _Narada. _No matter how bad their fights got, no matter what might have been said at the time, they would put it behind them after they both settled down without apologies. Soon enough they were enjoying each other's company off duty during meals and playing chess three times a week.

Both men ended up having important roles in his life as a captain. Bones was his voice of passion, the one who always wanted to do the right thing, save as many lives as possible, hurt no one, and tell him whenever his head was up his ass. Spock was his voice of reason, the one who would quote him regulations and tell him the consequences of their actions, and keep him acting somewhat like a proper captain. The two of them balanced him out, allowing his decisions to find ground somewhere in the middle.

While McCoy was a great friend and a better drinking buddy, Spock was different—Jim wouldn't be able to tell anyone why, but it was true. He was a friend, a good one at that. He was witty and sarcastic, smart and . . . kind. Very kind. It was a shame that no one seemed to try to see past the Vulcan exterior.

Now that Spock was distancing himself, it seemed like something was missing. Spock was the only one he could match wits against, both in chess and conversation, the only one who he could talk about all aspects of work to, and recently, Spock had been teaching him Vulcan. Being with Spock was relaxing yet stimulating and peaceful. Perhaps McCoy should worry about his title of best friend being stolen. Jim chuckled to himself at that. It wouldn't matter much if Spock continued to keep to himself. He would have to change that.

Deciding on what to do, Jim got up and deposited his tray. He would have to corner Spock, and he knew just how to do it.

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><p>The moment Spock's relief came onto the bridge, the captain was out of his chair and charging towards the turbolift before Spock could escape him. He just managed to squeeze through as the doors closed. Spock merely looked at him with a raised eyebrow.<p>

"Thought you could escape me Mr. Spock?" He grinned, proud that he managed to catch the Vulcan before he could hide out in one of the labs for the rest of the night.

"Not at all Captain as I was not trying to 'escape' from you." The calm tone in his voice was enough to grate on Kirk's nerves. Reaching past his first officer, he pushed the emergency stop, jamming it hard with his thumb, his eyes glued to Spock's. "Captain?"

"Why are you avoiding me Spock?" The intensity in his blue eyes dared Spock to contradict him.

"Captain, this is the only turbo lift from the bridge, and I am certain that the other crew members would like to utilize it very soon." Spock leaned forward to release the emergency stop, but Jim side stepped to make it inaccessible to the Vulcan. It also brought Jim into his friend's personal space as a result. Exasperation flittered across Spock's brown eyes, his body very rigid. "Captain."

"It's Jim, Spock. Duty ended five minutes ago, and you know it. What the hell is going on with you? We've been getting along great for several months now, we only fight about regulations every other day now instead of every other minute, and if anyone asked, I would say you were one of my closest friends." The hardness in his gaze softened. "So why does it seem like you can barely stay in the same room as me these days."

Spock took a step back, getting as much distance between his captain and himself as the limited space in the turbolift would allow. His face betrayed no emotion except the fact that he stared straight ahead and spared no glance at Jim. "I cannot say I reciprocate the sentiment Captain."

A frown tugged at the corners of his lips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Until I am able to meditate and better control my shields, I cannot allow myself to interact with you as I have in the past." If he had been anyone else, Jim would not have notice the hesitation in his words, but it still stung to hear them spoken aloud.

"Why not?"

Spock's eyes glanced at him for a split second and for a moment, it seemed like he wanted to fidget until his Vulcan controls suppressed the urge. "My meditations have been inadequate as of late as you are well aware. It is best to avoid situations that strain my controls and invoke emotional responses from me."

"You're avoiding me . . . because I invoke emotional responses in you."

Spock gave him curt nod, not adding anything else.

Disbelief was the first thing Kirk felt run through him, then anger. His fist clenched at his side, shaking. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath before turning his gaze back up to the Vulcan. "That's not necessarily a bad thing Spock. I know Vulcans are all about restraint on their emotions, but your part human too. Maybe letting a little emotion through when you're with a friend is just what you need to help get your mind centered."

"That will be impossible Jim for I don't think of you as a friend."

Jim could only stare, emotions racing across his face in an instant; hurt being the most obvious one. When he opened his mouth, the turbolift jerked to life, starting it's decent. An engineer must have overrided the emergency stop. Jim stepped away from the control panel and took his spot at Spock's side, keeping his eyes forward. In a carefully controlled tone that would make a Vulcan proud, Jim spoke. "Alright Mr. Spock. If that's what you want, I'll keep things strictly professional between us. I don't want to cause my First Officer any additional discomfort."

"Jim. . . I—" But it was too late. The doors to the lift opened, and Jim walked out with a quick and crisp, "Commander."

Jim marched straight into sickbay, heading right for the liquor cabinet hidden behind McCoy's desk not sparing a look at his best friend. He must have looked pissed off because everyone seemed to hurry out of his way and the medbay cleared out the moment he walked in for the exception of one engineer who McCoy was looking over. Judging by the nervous glances the ensign was giving him, he was ready to bolt as well.

With a slight scowl, covering Bones' concern, he gave the young man a pat on the back, allowing him to leave. "Jim, mind telling me why you are scaring off all my patients?" Jim had taken the desk chair, so McCoy pulled up another, sitting opposite of him. His question wasn't answered however, causing the scowl to disappear and more concern to shine through.

Jim continued to sit tight lipped, pouring himself a large glass of the very illegal Romulan ale. Seeing that he was not ready to talk, the doctor busied himself with cleaning up his desk, organizing the PADDs, hypos, and samples crowding the surface. He knew that when Jim was like this, there was no use trying to pry it out of him. He would talk when he was ready. He had found that out the hard way in the past and never planned to repeat that mistake.

Kirk watched him move about as he sipped his ale, not muttering a word, and Bones let him. Once he finished tidying up, he got to work on his reports. Bones had forgotten that Jim was still in the room when he finally spoke, completely engrossed in his reports. "I confronted him. In the turbolift. He told me that he was avoiding me because I cause him to feel emotion and that he doesn't think of me as a friend."

"Jim he's Vulcan. He's supposed to say those things."

"You weren't there Bones. He tried to keep as much space between us as possible. Barely looked me in the eye the entire time. It was like if he touched me everything would fall apart," he replied angrily, staring at the blue liquid. His knuckles were white from grasping the glass so hard that McCoy could hear the glass strain against the pressure.

Diligently, McCoy wrestled the cup away from his tight grip, before the glass could break. "So what if he's not your friend Jim. You didn't care when you first got on board the _Enterprise._"

The psychology degree was coming out, Jim could already tell even in his intoxicated state. It was one of the things he loved about Bones. While Jim could dodge any question a psychologist threw at him, he couldn't help but confide in Bones as friend, and he trusted the doctor to keep it between them without him blabbing to Starfleet about every little issue. He couldn't say that about the actual ship psychologist. "I don't know. It's just that . . .," he paused, thinking about what he really wanted to say. "Is it so bad to have emotion? You and I know that Spock feels even if he suppresses them. We can't see it, but we know it's there, but he insists that he doesn't have them, that he's not supposed to have them. Cold logic isn't the way to go either. They think that emotions can cause savagery? What about cold unrelenting logic?! It can be even worse!" His voice gradually grew louder until he was standing, trying to convey his point almost desperate to do so.

Bones just sat calmly, staring at Jim with understanding eyes. "You're not talking about Spock anymore, are you?"

Guilt at being caught crossed his features. Slowly, he sat down, nodding grimly. "No . . . I'm not."

"Jim," McCoy leaned forward, taking the bottle of liquor when Jim kept eyeing it. "That happened a long time ago."

"I know. I know." Jim ran his fingers through his hair, still glancing at the confiscated bottle. "I'm just tired. Some sleep, and I'll be good as new." He rose from the desk, his eyes cast down to the floor.

"Jim, you haven't been having those nightmares recently right? If you are—"

"I'm fine, Bones. Honest. I haven't had those dreams since that class. I'm good." He did his best to smile. "I think I'll head to bed now. We'll be at our destination in a couple days, and I have sleep to catch up on."

"Alright Jim. If you need to talk, I'm here. Now get some sleep, doctor's orders," McCoy said in his heavy southern accent, giving his friend a smirk.

Jim moved around the desk, making his exit, but at the door he paused and said, "Thanks Bones. For listening."

"No problem, Jim."

* * *

><p>Kirk stood front and center of briefing room A. His eyes gazed over each senior officer in the room. There were only 2 hours away from the planet, and it was time to decide how they were going to handle the situation on Brekka V. However, the meeting couldn't start until Spock arrived. It was unusual for him not to be 10 minutes early for meeting like this, but for him to be the last to arrive was downright unheard off.<p>

"I apologize for being late Captain." All eyes turned to Spock as he entered.

"Not at all Commander. You had a minute to spare." The captain didn't meet his first officer's eyes, keeping them looking straight ahead. Spock took his place beside Kirk though with slightly more room between them than usual.

The crew had noticed the giant shift in their relationship. Instead of eating in the mess with Spock, Jim took his meals in his room or Doctor McCoy's office, conversation between the two was kept completely duty related, and all interaction between the two officers outside of the bridge stopped completely. Even their normal arguments on the bridge had stopped, like they couldn't bother to acknowledge each other's existence.

Leonard McCoy knew better though. He was the first to admit that he didn't like Spock the moment he laid eyes on him. His constant talk of logic and the occasional slight against humans irritated him to no end. However, constant life and death missions with the Vulcan changed his view slowly but surely. The insulting nicknames he had come up for Spock turned into friendly banter. Sure, he was often irritated with the hobgoblin. He was often irritated with a lot of people, but now he was also better at reading what Spock tried not to show. That's why he was the only one to notice that Spock absolutely did not like this current development.

Over the past two days, McCoy had watched the two idiots. While Jim was avoiding Spock like the plague, he would miss the moments Spock tried to reach out. Four separate times, Spock tried to gain his captain's attention. Each time Jim was out the door before he had a chance to continue. With the additional glances in Jim's direction, it didn't take long for him to figure out that the distance was really bothering him.

Normally, he would stay out of their arguments, but this one had been worse than their usual squabbles. Which was why he had confronted Spock just before this meeting.

"_I am here as you requested Doctor. You said this was urgent." Spock walked into McCoy's quarters, his appearance as immaculate as always, and his expression carefully hidden away behind his mask. _

"_Sit down Spock." The elder man gestured to a seat at his desk._

_Dark eyes briefly stared at the piece of furniture. "The mission debriefing will begin in 30 minutes. I do not have time for__—__"_

"_Shut up you stupid hobgoblin and sit down."_

_Spock raised an eyebrow but never the less complied with the request._

"_Now you listen here. I normally don't go and get myself involved in you two's arguments, but when it starts affecting the crew's moral and affecting the teamwork of the command team, I got to interfere."_

"_Our teamwork has not been affected, and I do not believe that your involvement is__—__"_

"_Don't give me that you green-blooded computer. No matter the problem, you two have never acted like this." Spock opened his mouth to say something, but McCoy sent him a death glare, daring him to interrupt him. "What the hell were you thinking, telling Jim that you didn't think of him as a friend?"_

"_I was merely telling the truth. I do not see the captain as a friend."_

"_Then how do you see him? You two have been inseparable since the _Narada_ incident, so you have to feel something for him."_

_Spock became unnaturally still even for a Vulcan and his eyes looked just to the right avoiding the doctor's gaze. "I do not believe that is your concern Doctor McCoy."_ _His voice was cold; Spock's way of telling him to drop the subject._

_Then it dawned on him. The doctor's eyes widened and his mouth dropped slightly. The over protectiveness Spock tended to exhibit towards Jim, the slips of emotion he showed towards him, the convenient interruption Spock seemed to always make whenever Jim was with a woman on a mission. No, Spock had not lied. He truly did not see Jim as a friend. "You__—__"_

"_If it is acceptable to you, Doctor, I would find it most amicable if you kept your new found discovery to yourself. I do not wish for him to know nor do I ever plan on act on it." Words seemed to elude McCoy even as Spock stood up. "If you excuse me, I wish to meditate before the debriefing." Spock walked out before McCoy could say anything._

The revelation on Spock's true feelings had stunned him so much, that it took a good five minutes to wrap around the information. Now, sitting at the conference table and watching the strained interaction between his commanding officers, he wondered if he should tell Jim the truth.

"Alright listen up. " Jim placed his hands on the table. "Mr. Spock, tell them what the planetary situation was before we lost contact."

Spock stepped forward, bringing up the report onto the screen. "Before contact was lost, the planet was undergoing diplomatic relations between the colonist and the native inhabitants. From reports, the natives are peace dwelling and live off the land. Formal diplomatic negotiations were in process to make the inhabitants a member of the Federation. From all reports that have been received, there have been no disagreements recorded nor have there been any confrontations between the two groups."

Jim nodded. "Due to the relative peace between the colonists and natives, we are not certain what to expect on the planet. Our current mission is to assess the situation and resolve it if we can on Brekka V. The only information we have of the current situation is that there is no communication channels open on the planet, that the planet's defensive field is still active, and that no one has come or gone from that planet in two months. Our only option is to send a landing party down onto the planet via shuttle to deactivate the field stopping transporter capabilities and try to get communications back up.

"We will need to be prepared for anything. The landing party will consist of myself, Doctor McCoy, Lieutenant Uhura, and 3 security officers." Jim turned his eyes to Giotto. "I'll leave the assignment of the officers up to you. I'll trust your judgment on who will be most suitable for the positions."

Spock stepped forward. "Captain, if I may interject, I would prefer to be in the landing party."

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Spock. As you often state, both of us in the landing party is not only illogic but against regulations." He would not meet Spock's eyes as he spoke. Doing so, he saw the surprise on the crew's faces at his comment. No one had ever quoted regulation back at Spock before because no one knew regulations better than him.

"Captain, I insist on being part of the landing party. Having an additional science officer in the landing party has proved to be quite beneficial in the past and has gotten us out of many improbable situations. Keeping me on the bridge will lower our chances of success by thirty-nine percent."

Everyone's eyes were on Captain Kirk, awaiting his decision. He knew he couldn't win. All impossible situations Jim had faced in the past were because Spock had been there. As angry as he was, he could not chance failure because he decided to leave him behind. "All right Mr. Spock, you have made your point. You will join the landing, party. Scotty, that leaves you in charge of my ship. Don't get a scratch on her."

"Aye, sir. Ye can count on me to keep her purring like a kitten." The Scott grinned like a madman and Jim couldn't help but grin back.

"Alright, you have your assignments, landing party I want you ready to depart in exactly 2 hours from now. Giotto, forward me your choices to my PADD, so I can approve them. Everyone, dismissed."

* * *

><p><strong>So yeah, I'm impatient. I proofread and waiting ony beta, but I wanted to get this out ASAP cause I really new to focus on my project for school. Can't do that until I post. Was going to make it longer, but I thought this was good right here. Hope you leave a comment. Tell me if you think someone is out of character. I will be posting finished product on ks archive and AO3.<strong>


	3. Jim and Landing Parties Don't Mix

**Hey, sorry it's late. Meant to update Wednesday. Just wanted to let you all know that, I am going to follow the Star Fleet Medical Reference Manual which states Vulcan body temperatures are 91 degrees Fahrenheit. Just saying. I know everyone has Spock's body temperature as higher than normal, but judging by that and McCoy's statement that Spock has ice cold blood while talking about his physiology (not used to reference Spock as being a cold person or a computer or anything for once) I'm willing to go with he has a lower body temp.**

* * *

><p>The shuttle bay was crawling with engineers, double checking everything to ensure a safe flight for their commanding officers. Scotty was overseeing the entire process, barking orders with bits of frustration slowly forming on his face. "What are ye doing lad? If ye work any slower, I'm going to grow grey hair by the time yer done. We have a schedule to keep."<p>

Jim couldn't help but smile at the Scott as he approached the _Galileo_. He trusted no one else to take care of his ship and all of its components, and if something did manage to go wrong, he could trust Scotty to fix it. "Breathe, Scotty. I'm sure everything is in perfectly working order."

"I have no doubt that it's in perfectly working order, Captain. Just adding a few upgrades to account for anything that always seems to go bloody wrong," Scotty said in his thick Scottish accent, eying Jim as he spoke as if the young captain intentionally went looking for trouble. "The haul is a bit stronger, and I rewired the circuits to send a wee bit more power to the shields to compensate for the fact that Mr. Spock would not allow me to install a miniature photon canon to defend yerselves if need be."

"Mr. Scott, need I remind you that that adding weaponry to the shuttles must first be cleared with headquarters unless dire circumstances call for it." Spock came up from behind them, not even glancing away at the PADD in his hands.

"With you two it always turns into a dire circumstance if you don't mind me saying. Better safe than sorry I always say."

Chocolate eyes looked up at the engineer, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards just slightly in silent agreement.

Jim left them to their continued debate on the issue. He had a sneaking suspicion Spock actually enjoyed arguing with people, not that the Vulcan would ever admit it. After all, Spock would intentionally irritate Bones on occasion.

No, he couldn't afford to think about Spock. Even thinking that, he couldn't stop himself from looking back at his first officer. His face was as stoic as ever but amusement was ever so present in his eyes as he calmly argued with his chief engineer.

Forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, he went over the supplies one more time. They should have everything: emergency rations, medical supplies, extra clothes, phasers, replicators, and other emergency equipment.

He was so distracted by his attempts to not think of Spock and focusing on the task at hand that he didn't see McCoy's approach until he felt a hand on his shoulder that yanked him around. Kirk winced as it was his sore shoulder, but the doctor held no sympathy for him. "Easy, easy. That's still a bit sore you know."

"Jim, I got to talk to you about Spock."

Immediately the captain's friendly blue eyes darkened. Turning his head away, he pulled his shoulder from McCoy's grasp. "Nothing to talk about Bones. He doesn't want me around outside of work."

A growl escaped the doctor. "Don't be an idiot. You know Spock is bad with words sometimes."

Jim looked up from his PADD, his expression hard. "Oh really, then what did he mean since you are so convinced that my first officer didn't express himself correctly."

The older man's mouth opened to say something, but hesitated, his eyes flickering to somewhere behind Jim. His scowl deepened when his eyes returned to his superior officer. "If you'd stop pissing around for a second, you'd see that he actually—"

"Captain, we are ready to depart." Spock had spoken from behind Jim, but his eyes were locked on McCoy. "Did I interrupt?" Jim didn't miss his friend's curse under his breath about stubborn Vulcan's before pushing past them both and storming off to the shuttle.

Blue eyes met brown for a split moment before Jim averted his gaze first. "Thank you Mr. Spock. Let's hope that we aren't too late to stop whatever is going on down there." As he handed the device to Spock, their fingers accidentally brushed. The long slender hand retreated so quickly that Jim did not pay attention to the small pleasant tingle that shot through him from the contact. He only noticed how the Vulcan was almost desperate to get away, walking quickly to the shuttle, following McCoy.

The action hurt more than it should of. He was aware of that. Whether his first officer liked him or not shouldn't even concern him. As long as he followed orders and was loyal to him and the crew, it should not matter— and yet, it did. The two days spent avoiding him was hard. He had no idea how he was going to keep it professional only being stuck together for who knew how long on this mission. He wanted to reach out again. Maybe Bones was right and Spock only said those things because it was expected of him. The thought had crossed his mind.

"Captain, we are waiting on you," Ensign Pennington stood just outside the shuttle in his red uniform, looking at his captain expectantly. The man was young, no older than twenty with bright red hair and green eyes. His freckles made him look even younger. Though the ensign was young, he had many useful skills including engineering knowledge and an excellent hand to hand combat record which was why Kirk had approved him for the delicate mission despite his young age. With a quick glance around, he confirmed that the others were already inside, and he was the last to board.

Pushing away his problems wasn't easy, but he managed, slapping on a grin. "Thank you Ensign. Let's get this show on the road." Jim entered first with the Ensign close behind.

Everyone was already seated and buckled. Security took the seats closest to the door near the rear of the shuttle, Bones was seated next to Uhura just behind the pilot's seat, and Spock, Jim had to take a deep breath though he knew it was going to happen, was seated in the co-pilot's seat. With only a slight pause, he took his seat up front in the pilot's seat.

"Systems check, Mr. Spock," Kirk asked, sitting down and starting up the engines.

"All systems are online and readings are optimal, Captain." Spock replied quickly.

"All right Mr. Spock; let's take her out of here. Are we clear to launch, Mr. Scott?"

"Shuttle bay doors are opening, Captain. Yer clear to depart in 10 seconds." The countdown started and both Spock and Kirk focused on departure procedures.

When Jim placed his hands on the control counsel, Spock gave him a small look of surprise. "Captain, autopilot is much more precise."

"No matter what anyone says Spock, an actual pilot is better than a computer any day." At the skeptical look, Jim grinned. "I only plan to take her out of shuttle bay and possibly land. I promise autopilot will be engaged the rest of the time if it makes you feel better. Just don't blame me if my piloting skills get rusty."

Spock only lifted an eyebrow in skepticism but did not add another word. For a moment, things seemed normal between them, and Jim took a bit of comfort in that. Only a little as the oppressive atmosphere returned soon after. They were an hour from the planet as they couldn't risk the _Enterprise_ being detected if there was a hostile presence somewhere nearby. The shuttle was small enough that it was possible to go undetected if scanners were not checked carefully.

As time passed, the atmosphere grew heavier as no one spoke. Normally, Jim would have no difficulty striking up conversation with his landing party; however, even he was not in the mood to talk much, so silence prevailed the first thirty minutes of the trip besides the occasional cough or shifts in clothing.

Taking the situation into his own hands, McCoy smiled before saying, "Who wants to bet 100 credits that Jim will lose his shirt fighting some random alien while we're down there?" The desired affect was instantaneous. Jim choked at the random comment while the crew members smiled.

"Actually Doctor McCoy, 200 credits on whether or not the captain's communicator will malfunction, get lost, taken, or/and endure subspace communication interference is a better bet." Chuckles escaped the crew this time. Even Spock's lips curled at the corners just slightly.

"Ensign, betting on whether the captain will suffer some sort of misfortune while on the mission is illogical. After all, the probability of such occurrences happening would not make the bet challenging as it is most likely to occur."

Jim stared at Spock with his jaw dropped while the rest of the crew laughed at his expense. "I'm not that bad!"

"On the contrary captain, there does seem to be a distinct pattern when it comes to our landing missions. You yourself had even mentioned the amount of replaced shirts only 2.38 days ago."

"Spock does have a point," Uhura smiled, a spark of mischief in her dark eyes. "Routine missions tend to become eventful whenever you go down to a planet." There were murmurs of agreement, and the captain chose not to argue it. The mood was lighter, and he preferred smiles on his crew's faces.

"Then it's a good thing I have the best crew to back me up." He flashed her a smile.

"Not going to do you much good when you have an allergic reaction to one of McCoy's hypos." And so, more jabs at Jim's expense continued. It seemed like they had just started when Spock announced they were going to enter the atmosphere in 1 minute.

"What are the scanners showing Mr. Spock?"

A frown tugged at the corners of Spock's mouth. "Nothing Captain."

"Don't get me wrong Mr. Spock, but normally that should be a good thing." Jim's smile faded when the Vulcan's expression did not change.

"I mean is there is absolutely nothing on the scanners. No aircrafts, no native life readings, and only the fourth of the colonists are appearing."

"Any ships in the planet's vicinity?"

"Negative, Captain." Spock leaned back in his seat. "We're entering the atmosphere in 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1," the shuttle shook as they hit atmosphere. Though the dampeners took care of the worst of the shaking, some vibrations could still be felt.

As they broke through, Jim couldn't help but stare in shock at the ground beneath them. He had seen pictures of this planet when he received the mission. It had been gorgeous with beautiful clean rivers, blue green grass, that went as far as the eye could see with tall red mountains with snowy peaks in the background, and occasionally a tall tree with the most entrancing violet leaves that cast shadows to protect the living creatures from the sunlight. He saw none of that beauty. Instead he saw scorched earth, burned remains still glowing with embers drifting into the afternoon sky for at least 3 miles.

"What the he—," Jim never finished as the shuttle shook violently. "Mr. Spock, what's going on?"

"It seems there are anti-aircraft phasers targeting us, Captain. Our shields are down to 45 percent."

Curses left the captains lips, taking over the shuttle manually. "Bet you wish you let Scotty install those canons now, don't you."

"I do not think now is the proper time to discuss this." The shuttle was hit again, snapping Jim's head violently forward. "Shields at 7 percent Captain. We cannot survive another hit."

"No shit Spock!" Jim took evasive actions, taking the shuttle into a dive, his mind working in overdrive. "Any chance you can find a blind spot Spock or possibly a range?"

"Negative captain, they are not appearing on the sensors."

"Of course they aren't." He muttered, turning a sharp left to avoid another shot. All he could really hope for was to get out of range.

Due to the limited detection, Jim had to rely on his eyesight to avoid the array of fire heading their way. So when he took that sharp left, he had not noticed the gun pointed right at them. He tried to pull up quickly, but it was no use. The gun got a fire off, hitting the bottom of a shuttle. The shield failed and the consequences were immediate. The phaser shots cut through the bottom of the hull , tearing the shuttle in half. Jim cursed, trying to ignore the cries of his security personal as they fell with the back of the ship. A few seconds later, it burst into flames because of the failing reactor that was located in that half of the shuttle. Not much steering could be done as the engines were gone, but he had done what he intended.

The front of the ship crashed into the lake, skidding over the top for a few yards before coming to the rest and starting to sink. Spock was the first one out of his seat as the water started rushing in, helping Uhura and McCoy out of their seats, disoriented from the landing. Jim was grateful for that. Despite the whiplash he was sure he had judging from the pain in his neck, he could focus on trying to salvage as much equipment as he could, but they were sinking fast, the compartment already filled with water. He could only grab two backpacks before Spock yanked him away, taking the backpacks from him.

Jim wanted to protest, but he favored saving his air as fighting Spock would only waste it. Jim glanced one more time at the shuttle which was sinking further and further into the darkness of the lake. Withholding a sigh, he swam to the surface, Spock following closely behind him.

Breaking the surface of the water, the captain wished he hadn't. The bottom half of the shuttle laid just 10 feet way from the water's edge, just a pile of burning rubble. If they had held out a few moments longer, they might have lived. "Captain, we should head for shore before someone locates our positions." Staring a while longer, he pulled himself away.

"Where are Bones and Uhura?"

"They already went ashore. I went back down to make sure you were still conscious." Spock informed him. "Are you injured Captain?"

"Not life threatening. I'll survive." Saying that, he had to hide the wince as he turned his head, swimming towards the shore. Uhura waded into the water to help him up which Jim accepted gratefully. "We need to move. We don't know if someone hostile will come to the crash site, and we need to regroup."

"Captain, the security team . . ." Uhura glanced at the wreckage. There was a hope hidden under the sadness, that the officers might be alive somewhere in the fiery debris.

Grief pulled at his heart, but he knew the chances of them surviving the explosion and the crash of that magnitude, and they couldn't afford to find a way across the lake to search not knowing if hostiles were after them. "They are gone, Lieutenant. There is nothing we can do for them." A comforting hand was placed on her small frame. "We have to keep moving."

Her eyes teared but she nodded turning to head up the hill. McCoy glanced at him before following her. Jim was about to follow them when Spock called out to him. "Captain." By the time Jim turned around Spock was already rushing back into the water. Confused, the others looked out into the dark waters. He could barely see it, the small glimpse of red opposite of their crash site.

Jim followed suit, throwing the backpacks to Bones, hurrying after Spock. It was a difficult swim, and Spock reached the crew member first; Jim was right on his heels to help the Ensign float. His head was bleeding and looked to be unconscious, but Ensign Pennington was alive. With their combined efforts, they were able to pull the young man onto the bank.

Bones was on him in a moment, assessing him for injuries for once without a tricorder. Did doctors even know how to asses people without those little pieces of equipment? The captain had never once seen McCoy without that specific piece of equipment in his hands. The worry was unneeded as the country doctor assessed the man quickly, checking the wound, then the pulse, and then the eyes. Never before had his faith in his CMO been so strong as Jim watched him work.

"Well Jim, looks like he took a bit of damage to his head. Besides a few bumps, bruises, and cuts, nothing seems to be broken. Until I get a working tricorder, I can't assess any internal damage until he shows signs of it. But from what I can see, the only thing we need to worry about is his head and possibly a little bit of water in his lungs from the sounds of his breathing."

"Can he be moved?" Jim glanced at Spock who was glancing around the wreckage. The tall, lithe body was crouched and stiff, searching for possible hostiles.

"Yeah, but he'll need a place to rest. He could easily slip into a coma the way he is right now."

"Captain, we should find shelter as soon as possible." Spock interrupted, his gaze fixed on a spot over the hill.

Jim followed his line of sight, seeing nothing yet still tense. "Let's follow the plan."

"But Captain," Uhura stood before her captain, determined. "The other two might be alive. We have to look for them. We almost left Ensign Pennington behind already."

Jim considered Uhura's request. Bones looked up at him expectantly obviously waiting for him to go along with Uhura's idea, and Spock was still keeping his eye on the horizon. If they went back to search, they would not be able to escape if they were attacked. They had no weapons. No means to defend themselves. With already one injured man, their pace was already going to be cut in half. What if they were still alive? He was their captain. They would expect him to come for them. He couldn't leave them behind. Pennington had survived. If Spock had not spotted him, the man would have drowned. Risk searching for his men who might already be dead, or ensure the safety of those still alive.

It wasn't a choice, he had to go look for the—

"The Captain initial command is correct." Spock took his spot just behind Jim's right shoulder. "We cannot waste time looking for them. I am 87.3096 percent sure that the anti-aircraft weapons that fired upon us on entry were manually controlled. If that is the case, they will be searching for us, and we are in no way prepared for any confrontation. The best course of action is to find shelter and regroup."

Every fiber of his being wanted to argue with Spock. He had been wrong initially. One of the security team had survived. If there was a chance the others were too, than he wanted to search. A quick look around, squashed the rebellion down though. Spock was right. They had to move forward and pray that if his security team was still alive that they could hold on until help arrived for them or tracked the rest of the landing party down, he couldn't risk the other's lives. If it was just his life that he was putting on the line, it would be another story to go look for them. As it was, if he went off to search by himself, it would be irresponsible. "You heard the Commander. Let's hurry. Spock, do you think you can carry Ensign Pennington?"

Spock had already moved to do so before he finished his sentence. A glance at his CMO's face told him that the man did not agree, but surprisingly for once, he kept his mouth shut and followed Uhura up the hill.

Spock looked at Jim expectantly, waiting for him to go on ahead so he could follow. Jim spared one more glance behind them before turning and following his CMO and communications officer. Spock was a step behind him, noticing movement heading towards the wreckage right as it went out of his sight.

* * *

><p>Jim led their small landing party, looking for any places they could take shelter. With Spock's tricorder inoperable from their dip into the lake, they were stuck using their eyes to map the landscape. Two hours, they walked in their wet clothes, the cool breeze making the journey very uncomfortable. With the flat land, with only a few small hills and very little trees, there was no place to stay out of view for long. It only became worse when the sun began to set. The temperature was rapidly dropping. If the conditions continued, they would be forced to make camp in the open. It was almost a god send when some rock formations came into view. The rocks were large standing 12 feet tall and red in color. The cluster of rocks was close enough to hide them from view yet enough space to easily maneuver between them. Some of the rocks that were tilted toward one another would provide some shelter in addition to blocking the wind.<p>

Uhura and Bones collected dry grasses and wood as they made their final stretch, so they would start a fire the moment they reached their destination. For that, Jim was grateful. It gave him a moment to take inventory of what he had saved from the _Galileo. _The backpack had been heavy, and it was a relief to set it down. At the moment, he was hoping that he saved at least some of the medical supplies. From the two back packs, there were two thermo blankets, two working stage one phaser, some rations, six bottles of water, one emergency medical kit, and finally a broken subspace communication device. It wasn't much and for five people, it wouldn't be enough.

He handed McCoy the emergency medical kit and the thermo blanket in attempt to keep the ensign warm. Judging by the series of expressions on Bones' face, the kit was barely adequate. Never the less, the dermal regenerator was pulled out to fix up the minor wounds along with one hypo for the pain.

He felt Spock's approach before even hearing him, so he didn't turn around once the Vulcan was behind him. "What do you think Spock, think you can fix it?" He raised the broken device.

Spock gingerly took it from his hands, inspecting it with a critical eye. "I am not sure Captain. I would have to disassemble the device to inspect which components are dysfunctional and which can be repaired. Tools designed for delicate work would also be beneficial."

"I don't know what to tell you Spock. We aren't exactly in a position to request those kinds of tools. You'll have to make do with what we have." Kirk flashed him his famous smirk, picking up an elongated rock with a sharp point. "There you go. Finest tool nature has to offer."

Spock raised an eye brow at him and, surprisingly, took the rock. "I suppose it would become an adequate stone knife with additional preparation."

Jim couldn't help but laugh. "Glad I could help."

"Jim," his first officer crouched beside him, keeping a few inches between them to ensure they wouldn't touch. "I wanted to apologize. I did not mean to offend you before."

"I thought you didn't believe in apologizes. Said something about them being illogical." If Spock didn't know better, it looked like a weight had been lifted from the captain's shoulders the way his eyes brightened and his smile grew.

"I just wanted to clarify that though it is true that I do not see you as a friend, you are . . ."

At the hesitation, Jim raised his hand to stop him right there. "I get it. I'm like a brother to you, right? And admitting it out loud that you feel something like that towards me would be un-Vulcan."

Spock's brow furrowed as he considered his next words carefully. That face was usually reserved McCoy and himself when trying to figure out an illogicial human saying one of them had used or when reconsidering his strategy to make them see something his way when logical reasoning wasn't working. "I admit I am a bit confused. If you understood what I meant, then why were you angry?"

"I didn't. Not until Bones mentioned it anyway." His smile faded and fatigue showed in the corners of his eyes. "Yeah, I was mad even though a part of me knew that you probably didn't mean it the way you did. I'm human. Sometimes my emotions influence my actions. But this," he waved his hand to indicate the entire situation they had found themselves in. "This made me remember it was petty. We're a good team Spock. You make me a good captain even if I don't take all of your suggestions."

"Brother is essentially correct as it is a translation of the Vulcan word," Spock finally said after some time. "And I do not make you a good captain, Jim. You have demonstrated many times that you make a great captain on your talents and merits alone."

"Why Spock, I think that is the sweetest thing anyone's every said to me." Jim laughed, missing the light green flush of his companion's cheeks at his words.

"Seriously though, I'll try not to emotionally compromise you. I know I get under your skin sometimes, but you're my friend. If you're having difficulties, I'll help you out. Even if it means shutting up for a moment or having some time to yourself, so you can get back under control, tell me. I enjoy hanging out with you. Bones is great and all, but I can only take so much before he drives me up a wall."

"I too find that I am not adverse to your company, Jim."

"Now that that's all settled," Jim grinned, slapping Spock's shoulder. "Let's get back to work, starting with how we should split up the rations."

The discussion went pretty quickly, deciding it was best to save the rations for tomorrow and eat half a pack. Each ration contained 4,000 Calories. Half a pack may not keep them feeling full, but it would supply the energy needed to get through the day.

They both agreed that he and Spock would head for the next settlement in the morning and scout out the situation to see if the conditions were similar to what they had stumbled across upon entering the planet's atmosphere. They would leave one phaser for Bones and Uhura to use to defend themselves, as the trip to the settlement would take a few hours to get there, and they would take the other.

Spock volunteered to take watch for the entire night. When Jim protested, he only received the argument about Vulcan's requiring a significantly less amount of rest than humans. It was an age old argument between them. One Jim could never win. Never the less he put up a fight until the day's events caught up with him. His neck was aching, his back was throbbing, and his body in general was sore and begging for sleep.

Finding a patch of dirt that didn't have too many pebbles in the way, he laid down, staring at the night sky above them. Somewhere up there, the_ Enterprise_ was waiting for his return, and he was going to make sure he and his landing party arrived safe and sound.

* * *

><p>Spock and Jim left at sunrise. They had awakened McCoy so he could keep watch over the camp before they had left, each of them consuming their share of rations before doing so. Spock took the phaser, and Jim packed a water bottle and a few hypos.<p>

They walked in a comfortable silence; too busy scouring the area around them looking for possible threats or stray colonists who might have shed light onto the situation. They ran into neither.

As they walked, the flat, open terrain became lusher. Trees appeared more often and bigger in size, the grass tall and healthy, but there were no animal life. The only sounds were the leaves and branches swaying in the wind and the soft crunch of the plant life under their boots.

The silence was killing Jim. It was too unnatural. The urge to talk to Spock and fill the silence was hard to keep under control. It seemed eerily familiar, the situation of walking in a forest with no life, no movement, around him.

He was about to relent to his desire to break the uncanny calm when he saw it. Just a hundred yards in front of him, the beautiful coloring of the forest with all its shades of blue, green, and violet, quickly turned into grey, almost petrified looking, husks of themselves, wilted and crumbling. A white fuzzy substance, its texture quite similar to moss, dusted the outside of the shells.

Jim stopped dead in his tracks at the sight ahead of him. His eyes were wide with fear and disbelief, his body trembling just slightly. His heart racing, and his palms sweating. He had been right. It was all familiar to him. He had seen this all before, and doubt crept into him his mind along with the fear. Doubt that he may not be able to bring his landing party through alive after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review. Next chapter will take a little longer because I love you all and want this to be a good story. That and I have other stories to update as well.<strong>


	4. Seriously, why me

**Sorry for taking so long. My hard drive crashed meaning new computer, then holidays, and then just plain old not sure how to write Jim. Hopefully I did well. You tell me.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Aunt Joanna, can you come outside for a minute?"<em>

_A beautiful woman in her late thirties emerged from a small, standard issued, colony farmhouse. She had beautiful long, brown hair, tanned skin, and lively green eyes. Jim always loved his aunt's eyes. The way she looked at him. They held mischief as well as a quiet intelligence and, most of all, love. Though his mother loved him, she was always off planet. He was lucky if she was home a few weeks out of the year, and when she was home, he was too busy with school, friends, or just staying away from the house to avoid his uncle. That soft warmth that she held in her eyes when she looked at him filled him with a pride and joy that he never knew he was capable of. The best thing about his aunt though was her personality. It was just as radiating as she was. _

_When he had first met her, Jim came up with a brilliant idea. At this point in his life, Sam had left, and Jim had reacted by acting up, badly. His once top of the school grades plummeted, he stop being courteous, and essentially stop being the golden child Sam had accused him of. He thought it would bring Sam back home in the beginning. That he could prove to Sam that he still needed his big brother. And it got worse as time went on: fights every day, skipping school, and eventually shop lifting._

_He was twelve, discovering girls, and hormones were coming into play and influencing his actions. His friends were low-lives and did not come up with the greatest of plans. He was aware of that even at his age. He even knew that hanging out with these kids would only hamper him later in life. After all, he was smart, a genius even, but he could not bring himself to care, not about the people he hurt or even for himself. Who would care if he smoked, or if he caused another kid to go to the hospital, or if he felt up a girl? His friends thought he was cool, and it made people stop thinking he was a chip off the old block. He hated hearing that the most, people comparing him to someone who he never met. It also gave him a chance to release all the pent up anger and hatred he stored up inside himself living in Frank's house, and it gave him an excuse for the bruises that he always had._ _So when he saw a beautiful woman walking down the sidewalk in the middle of Riverside at night, it was the perfect opportunity to get a few more laughs. _

_He strolled by in a too big, worn out, brown leather jacket acting cool, his friends watching a little ways away. When he was close enough, his hand shot out to lift up her skirt. It was a harmless prank. The woman would yelp and try to slap him or go off crying or whatever. Worst case scenario, she would call the cops, but he'd be long gone by then. _

_His fingertips barely brushed the fabric of the woman's miniskirt when he found himself staring up at the night sky a split second later. He hadn't even noticed he had been flipped onto his back until she leaned over him with a playful smile. "My, my, if it isn't my little nephew James Tiberius Kirk."_

_At the sound of laughing from his friends, Jim shot up, scrambling to get back onto his feet. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" He demanded. His chest puffed out and chin raised, glaring at this woman who had the nerve to actually make a fool out of him. _

_Her response was a smack to the back of his head. She did that often, he soon came to find out. Anytime he was disrespectful or did something stupid, she would smack the back of his head. Hard enough to sting just a bit, but never hard enough to do any damage. It was more annoying than anything. _

_He never did find out why she was in Riverside that night, nor did he care enough to put effort into finding out, but she did visit often afterwards. He didn't give her the time of day. She was his father's sister. He wanted nothing to do with his father. Not until Frank kicked him out of the house one night._

_That was nothing new. He was used to getting kicked out of the house. Frank would have him locked out for a few days if he was really pissed. Normally, he'd just find some place to crash temporarily. The school basement or, if it was warm, a spot by the lake underneath the big oak tree in the park, were his usual stomping grounds. He never relied on his friends for a place to crash. He never wanted them to find out his life outside of school and their outings. He didn't trust them enough. This particular night however, he was sporting a high fever. _

_He wandered for a bit, trying to focus on finding a place to stay. His fever made his thinking lethargic, and he kept losing his train of thought. He collapsed in the park, vaguely wondering if he was going to die there, thinking it was fitting to die alone as he spent most of his life alone._

_Somehow, and she never answered how no matter how many times he had asked, she found him. She picked him up and cared for him until he recovered even making excuses to Frank on where he was and what he was doing. Despite how rude he was to her in the past, she held no anger or annoyance toward him. She treated him as if he was her own, not taking any disrespect from him yet sitting through his fits of anger and hurtful words, letting it slide off her as if he had spoken to her about the weather. That's when he discovered how kind and patient she really was. She knew that he needed to get it off his chest, and she sat and listened, and when he had tired himself out, feeling like crap and filled with self hatred and loneliness, she lent him a shoulder and gave him words of encouragement._

_Not long after the incident, he received an invitation to come with her to the colony she lived on. Frank was eager to get rid of him, and he was eager to get away, so he accepted. That was how he came to live with her._

_In the first year of his stay on Tarsus, he quickly figured out that the crap he pulled in Riverside would not fly here. Actions had consequences. If he failed a test, he would sit in remedial classes. If he picked up a cigarette, he would be forced to play janitor at the school. It was consequences he wasn't used to. He was used to hurtful words and fists. It was to his surprise when he found that what he really took to heart was the look of hurt that was always present on his aunt's face when he really screwed up. He was used to looks of disappointment, but seeing his aunt apologize to others and get scrutinized for his mistakes and being told she was failing as a guardian, that was the worst. The longer he stayed under her care, the more he wanted her to be proud of him._

_Six months after first moving in, she managed to pull out that hidden genius in him. She tricked him into taking a placement test by occasionally asking him questions, pretending it was work related. It took several months to get through the questions, but she managed to do what no one else had. In hindsight, he should have seen that coming, but he was happy she succeeded. She put him in more advanced classes, gave him engineering projects, and had him come to her work at the colony's laboratory. She was a famous biologist and highly respected. She constantly kept his mind from being idle. _

_She not only taught him of science but also of character. She taught him how to treat a woman, how to control his anger, and how to better choose his fights. Yeah he was far from being perfect even after two years on Tarsus IV. He still got into fights and had trouble controlling his anger, but he no longer flipped skirts, smoked, stole, or outright disrespected authority. He suspected that by the time he became an adult, he would actually be a decent human being._

_Jim did not smile at her. Not this time. His brows were drawn together in worry as he showed her the dead birds that littered the ground by the crops._

_She stood beside him, taking in the sight, cool and collected as always. "What type of birds are these Jim?"_

_Annoyance crossed the teen's face. Normally he didn't mind her little quizzes, but he wasn't in the mood at the moment. "Ravenburrow is what they have been dubbed. Native to the planet. They are scavengers eating both plants and remains of dead animals. They have unique immune systems that make them very resistant to disease. Studies on their immune systems are being conducted in hopes to find a way to improve humanoid ones."_

_"Very good, though I would have preferred the scientific name for an answer instead." Jim rolled his eyes. He answered it didn't he? He didn't even flinched when he felt the smack at the back of his head for the eye rolling. "What can you conclude from what you see?"_

_Jim hesitated but not because he did not know. It was the answer he was afraid of. "Judging by the fact that they are by the fields and are often annoying pests to the farmers, I'd say they were chowing down on the crops before they kicked the bucket. Since they rarely die from disease . . ." Jim stared at the premature crops. He approached, stopping just at the edge of the field. Small, barely visible white fuzzy particles on the leaves. "I'd say that the grain is highly toxic to humans if the Ravenburrow died so quickly."_

_Joanna nodded her agreement. Her features' darkening. "Yes, those are my thoughts exactly."_

* * *

><p>No no no no no no. It was impossible for it to show up here. There were several solar systems away from Tarsus IV. There was no way for it to show up on this planet.<p>

The sight of the petrified forest froze the young captain in his tracks, his eyes wide with disbelief, and his palms were sweating while his hands shook. He could feel the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand and his heart race. He needed to breathe, but he couldn't force air into his lungs. Shit was he having another panic attack?

"Captain?" The word was said softly, barely above a whisper even, but it had Jim snapping his head to the side to look at his first officer, taking the slight crease in the Vulcan's brow and concern hidden in his eyes.

The fear that had rapidly taken hold of the captain slowly began to ease, just enough for him to reply with a slight smirk on his face. "I'm alright Spock. Just taken by surprise." It was surprising how calm and collected he sounded considering the clashing emotions inside him. If he hadn't known better, he might have believed himself.

Spock didn't look so convinced however. Jim should have expected that. Spock always seemed to see right through him, but he did not press much to Jim's relief. Instead, he studied the plant life before him with detached interest.

"Spock, we should go around." He couldn't stop the slight waver in his voice caused by his nerves when the commander took a step closer.

"In a moment, Captain. I would like to take a sample in case we have a chance to analyze the specimen in the future." Spock had reached up to scrape a small sample of the fuzzy white moss into a small test tube which was most likely retrieved from the small satchel he carried when on scientific missions that normally carried his tricorder and other scientific equipment.

"Don't!" Jims hand shot out to slap the Vulcan's hand away, voice filled with panic.

Spock pulled his hand away, but his eyebrows had disappeared under his bangs in surprise at the outburst. "Captain? Is something troubling you?"

"We need to find a river to wash our clothes," Jim tried to hide the panic. His façade was failing, and there was no way Spock had missed the desperation in his voice this time, but safety came first. Spock didn't know what he could have done by nearing that plant. He couldn't have known. Tarsus IV was classified. Only admirals and specific government officials could read about the disaster. The only thing that the public was informed of was the massacre that happened. The nitty gritty details were tightly under wraps, and those were the details that really mattered.

"Captain, if you have concluded that I was going to come into contact with the substance directly, that was not my intention."

"Just . . . trust me alright. Do not touch it, and do not go near it."

Spock opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue the matter. Something on Jim's face must have made him reconsider. The Vulcan nodded, responding, "As you wish, Captain. If my data is correct, there should be a creek away from the contaminated area 400 yards east."

The only answer Spock received was a curt nod. Jim turned on his foot heading east, being extremely careful of where he stepped and how far away the contamination was relative to their position.

Spock watched him with a critical eye. His normally brash captain had made a quick transformation before his eyes. In fact, it was so fast it seemed as if two sides of his captain were struggling for control. On the outside, Jim was trying to be normal, but his captain was failing. He had spotted the fear in his eyes, heard the trembling in his voice and his quickened pulse, and saw the stiffness of his movements. If he had to make a hypothesis, he would say that for 14.89 seconds, Jim had displayed the early symptoms of an anxiety attack when they had first come in contact with the diseased forest. Jim seemed to snap out of it when Spock had called out to him however, so the Vulcan was about to sum up the odd behavior under the complex human conduct he did not quite grasp. That was when Jim started showing inconsistencies.

Spock was well aware that Jim knew what they had stumbled upon. The initial reaction was enough to support that theory. That was also how Spock knew that it was very probable that it was a large variable of the current situation to cause such a reaction in Jim. It was more than surprise, it was fear. When the initial fear faded behind Jim's bravado and reassuring smirk, Spock was curious, but he also sensed the captain was not quite ready to talk about it. The quiet pleading in his eyes curved his curiosity and questions. Jim was trying to act normal, but the Vulcan had seen the way Jim's eyes darkened before his façade was in place. With what emotion, he could not tell, but it wasn't an emotion his friend had shown before.

What really drew the Vulcan's attention was what Jim did after they were on their way. The human's outburst had cleared any doubt that he was indeed hiding something, but the Vulcan was not going to question it, yet. Humans seemed fond of their secrets. Some kept more than others, and the captain seemed to have quite a few of them, but he wasn't going to pry until his captain had truly regained his calm, so he quietly observed Jim as the human led the way. Jim's footsteps were quiet even to his sensitive ears, and it wasn't a conscious effort either. His attention was too focused on his surroundings, keeping a specific distance away from the crumbling part of the forest. He never wandered any closer than 20 ft. For his brash and often reckless captain, it was very out of character.

As they continued on, Spock also noticed the increasing tension in the human's broad shoulders and the quiet murmurings to himself. He couldn't quite make out what the captain was saying, but it was concerning none the less. Jim tended to keep his thoughts to himself unless he was complaining about the admirals.

Jim caught sight of the creek first, picking up his pace but still as silent as he had been previously, simultaneously stripping off his clothes. Spock stared longer than he needed to before quietly copying his captain, taking in the way he washed his clothes. The shirt was carefully kept from the inside touching the outside and washed by rubbing it on the rocks as the water flowed over it. The ease his captain completed the task again insinuated that he had come into contact with whatever they had run across before.

Spock was quietly calculating how to broach the subject when Jim was the first to speak. "I know you have a lot of questions for me." Jim's voice was quiet and detached, comparable to when Jim talked to anyone about his death in the warp core.

The unpleasant memory tugged at his buried emotions and forced him to focus on his task and keep his eyes off the man before him. "Only two specific questions, Captain. One of which is how to create a properly working subspace communication device using only stone knives and bearskins."

Jim chuckled at Spock's attempt at humor. He must have looked like shit if Spock was cracking jokes. "You know, I have the strangest feeling of déjà vu that you said something like that before."

Spock raised an eyebrow clearly stating that was highly improbable.

Jim's amusement died down and his eyes traveled down to his hands, still clutching his shirt and under the cool water. The water was a beautiful crystal green, comparable to Earth's crystal blue waters in the Caribbean. It reminded him how beautiful this planet used to before the scorched earth and dying flora. "I know I need to tell you what I know, but I'm not ready. Still trying to get my head wrapped around the situation and weed out the important details." Jim met his first officer's eyes with a forced smile that made Jim look paler than he was. His eyes were beseeching. "Just give me a few hours. I'll tell you then. Just . . . don't pry until then, and trust me when I tell you to do something."

"Jim." He paused for a moment to take in the captain's reaction to his name. Spock had said his name softly and calmly, yet Jim braced himself. His chest puffed out just slightly in rebellion, waiting for Spock to try to change his mind. "You are my captain and my friend. I will await for when you are more comfortable on the topic. I will not pry, but if I feel that the crew is at risk or the information becomes too pertinent to our survival─"

"I won't hesitate to tell you." Tension drained from the human's shoulders. "Should we wait for our clothes to dry or continue on?"

"As the others will be awaiting our return by nightfall, we should continue on if we are to keep to the schedule."

There was a small voice inside Jim's head that was whispering things, things that he had tried to forget for a long time, but Jim shoved them back. This was not Tarsus. Things were different here. Old habits may not apply here. Jim put his pants on but kept his shirt off so it could dry as they walked. Spock did the same, though he kept his black undershirt on as well.

The rules Jim gave him were simple. Do not wonder closer than twenty feet to anything that looked infected with the white fuzzy moss, and if any symptoms of sickness appear, tell him immediately. Just that little amount of information gave Spock a few hypotheses on they were dealing with.

The apprehension that surrounded Jim was significantly less than before though it hadn't dissipated completely. Jim couldn't help but smile a bit to himself mentally. Spock's easy acceptance of Jim's secrecy was a blessing. It gave him time to collect himself and decide exactly what he was going to say about his past. It was true that he trusted his crew, but he couldn't trust them to look at him the same if they knew who he really was, deep down inside.

Feeling the intense brown eyes of his first officer on his back, he forced himself to keep his cool. Out of everyone, he couldn't let Spock know his secret. Instinctively, he clenched his fists. Spock must never know.

As they neared the settlement, the smell of rotting corpses hit their noses. Jim used his shirt to cover his nose, but Spock did no such thing. Could Vulcan's turn off their sense of smell? Jim decided yes because the smell was enough to make him nauseous yet Spock seemed unaffected. Still, the captain had to steady his nerves at the sight of the village. Corpses littered the street, partially eaten or decayed. The settlement itself, contained one story houses that were standard models used in most Terran colonies, and a few two level buildings set aside for scientific research, were deserted.

"What do you think Spock? Hear anyone nearby?" Jim kept his voice low and surprisingly steady, considering the scene before him.

"I do not hear anyone. I do not believe we will find a colonist who will assist in clarifying the situati0on."

The human nodded in agreement. "But we need supplies. We can scavenge for some while we're here."

"Stealing Captain?" A laugh escaped him before Jim could help it. Spock had sounded so affronted at the thought.

"I prefer to think of it as salvaging. Besides, I have a feeling there won't be much left once we get there." While the first half of the statement was cheerful with a slight twinkle in Jim's eyes, the second half was said with under his breath, not meant for anyone else to hear. "We'll keep low and out of sight just in case."

Spock fell in line behind Kirk, following him along the outskirts of the colony. Kirk trusted his first officer to keep an ear out for anyone nearby, so he stayed in the shadows of the buildings and kept his focus on trying to keep his growing unease under control. The entire scene was like someone pressed replay in his memories. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe. Spock was right behind him; he had to keep it together. "Spo─" his voice cracked, forcing him to clear it as quietly as he could. "Spock, let's start with the medical facility first then hit the houses one by one heading outward to the edge," he kept his voice low and just loud enough for Vulcan ears to pick up. He felt the silent confirmation from his first officer. He didn't move immediately, and he knew the hesitation would pique Spock's interest. He had to move. He forced that step forward, shoving all his emotions and thoughts to the back of his mind.

Jim stepped over a body, hidden partially by an overturned hover bike. He felt bile rise up in the back of his throat. He had caught a glimpse of the body and had regretted it instantly. A part of him was relieved that the man's face was obscured by the bike. It would either prove or disprove what he was trying not to admit to himself.

Spock however did stop to take a good look at the body. He stared at Jim's back. When the human made no attempts to stop, Spock followed, sparing another glance at the corpse. He promised not to ask, but it was becoming increasingly challenging as time continued.

They entered the medical facility through the back door. They thought they would have had to pry open the door, using the phaser to melt the lock. It turned out that it was unneeded. The door was unable to close due to a single pen, jammed into hinge, keeping the door open just enough so it wouldn't lock. From far away however, the door looked closed. A quick escape and entrance if everyone assumed it was locked.

Jim halted, his entire body on alert. He spared a glance at Spock, but the Vulcan didn't hint that anything was amiss. Still, he was only determined to rely on Spock's superior senses so much. There were always ways to get around them if someone knew what they were doing. Jim was one of those people. There were likely to be others.

Jim pulled the door open, so there was a small crack. Thankfully, the hinge didn't squeak to give them away. He listened carefully, reassuring himself that there was no one waiting nearby. His hand with the phaser went first, then the rest of his body. The power was turned off making it difficult to see with the lack of windows in this part of the building. He entered, feeling along the wall to find his way, progressing slowly.

From the little natural light that entered through the few windows and a large variety of cracks in the wall, Jim deduced they were in a corridor leading to the emergency care center. The walls themselves were intact though little could be said about the rest of the facility. Everything was trashed. Papers were scattered throughout the halls, some stained with blood, phaser burns scorched the floor and walls, furniture was overturned, and desks, file cabinets and bags were ransacked.

"Have an idea where the pharmacy would be?" Jim asked Spock. He carefully picked up a large sturdy bag from one of the corpses, carefully removing the death grip the woman had on it. "Rigor mortis. She died recently."

"Judging by the progression of the rigor mortis, I would estimate her death to be approximately 12 hours ago," Spock kneeled beside the woman, lifting her head to access the damage. "Cause of death is severe trauma to the back of the head."

"I agree. We should hurry to get what we need and get out of town." Jim took a quick look in the ugly brown bag, and noted with relief that there were already supplies. Unfortunately, it didn't look like she reached the pharmacy. "Let's hurry."

Jim moved to shoulder the bag, but Spock took it from him first. "Our destination should be up ahead to the right. I advise caution. The killer may still be nearby."

Since Spock made no comment about taking the bag, Jim decided to leave it alone. His shoulder and neck were very tender from the crash yesterday, and the journey to the settlement had made both stiff and uncomfortable.

Spock took the lead that time. Jim kept his gaze straight forward trying not to look at anything else. He was getting nauseous again. He needed to get out of this town, but again it had to wait. Sure they found a bag full of provisions, but the medicine could prove very invaluable in worst case scenarios. If they could find a tricorder for Bones, they could truly treat Ensign Pennington and any future problems they might run into until the _Enterprise_ picked them up. They already missed their first check in. If they missed one more, the _Enterprise_ was supposed to investigate. With the defensive shields still active, more shuttles will be forced to land. Would those shuttles get wiped out too?

"Jim, we have arrived."

The announcement regained Jim's attention. Breaking into the room was a piece of cake. He had a lot of practice at breaking in and out of places since joining Starfleet. Jim took a moment to appreciate the irony.

He managed to override the lock, but it took Spock's strength to pry open the automatic door. It was a promising sign that the pharmacy might not have been ransacked like the rest of the place.

Jim's heart sank seeing the trashed room. The likelihood that there were any medical supplies that could be useful to them were slim.

Both men separated to search through the remaining hypos and packages that were left. Jim was on his last row of shelves when he found several bottles of painkillers and penicillin stashed between the last shelf and the floor. "Spock, I found somethi-" A sharp pain pierced the back of his head. He fell forward, gripping the steel shelves. His vision blacked for only a second, but he managed to move instinctively to avoid another blow to his head. The weapon instead made contact with his recovering shoulder. Jim fell that time, grunting in pain. Even as his assailant approached him again, he couldn't help but worry about where Spock was? Was he taken by surprise too?

The person shrouded in a dark green cloak, raised the pipe above his head about to strike. He was disoriented and having trouble getting back onto his feet.

Just when Jim thought he was going to be put down for good, a pale hand wrapped around the attacker's wrist and gracefully flipped the person onto their back. A surprisingly feminine grunt escaped the unknown person. The pipe dropped to the ground with a loud clang, and Spock stood over her with the same neutral expression though his eyes looked angry. "I suggest you stay where you are if you do not wish for more physical harm to you. Any attempts of escape will only prove futile from this point on." Spock's voice was completely devoid of emotion. Anytime Spock locked his emotions away behind a wall, presenting a true Vulcan front, Kirk knew he was pissed.

"Spock, are you okay?" Jim managed to sit up, gripping the side of his head. He felt a sticky wetness between his fingers, but it did not seem that he had sustained major damage besides a bit of tenderness, some broken skin, and a large lump that was forming there. He was lucky. It seemed she was aiming for unconsciousness and not the kill not there was a large gap between the two when it came to hitting people with blunt objects.

"I am quite well Captain. I was lured away by the sight of a promising find. I was then attacked by my own assailant." Spock looked over to his right where a small boy rested in a sitting position unconscious.

"What did you do to him you bastard!" the cloaked figure yelled, pulling a knife from the sleeve. The hood fell as the human scurried onto her feet, only to have Spock grab and twist her arm behind her back in a very uncomfortable position, threatening to break it if she moved, and had her face down on the floor while simultaneously disarming her.

"You have got to teach me how you do that," Kirk muttered, standing up himself. Spock made it look so easy and effortless.

"I could try to teach you Captain, but the V'asumi was designed for Vulcan speed and strength." Spock replied. The hard edges eased from the Vulcan's face, yet his full attention was still on their captive.

"Why do I feel that is another slight against human's Spock?" Kirk teased. Finally regaining his sense of balance, he cautiously picked up the knife the woman had dropped.

"If you wish to learn, I can attempt to teach it to you; however I do believe it will be more prudent to take care of the current situation first."

Kirk nodded, sobering up. He grimaced at the woman's appearance. Not because she was disfigured or appalling in some way. No, she was quite beautiful. It was the ghosts of his past that clung to the woman and the child. The woman's cold hard eyes, the child's mature yet haunted expression, their malnutritioned forms, the scars and injuries they carried, it was all familiar to him. And when they stared at him, he felt like he was caught in the headlights with a hundred angry and accusing eyes staring at him.

Jim violently turned his back to them. "Let's take this someplace with a bit more light. Then we'll talk."

They let the woman go to the boy. He looked to be around 10 years of age. The woman held him in her arms protectively with hatred radiating off her aimed at them.

_Why did you watch? Why did you let her die? _

Jim shook his head violently. There was nothing he could do back then, he reminded himself. Even as Spock made them stand and held them at phaser point, Jim could still feel her intense gaze as if she saw right through him, like she knew.

"Captain, are you ready?"

Jim muttered a yeah, following Spock as he led their attackers out.

* * *

><p><strong>Seriously, I had major problems trying to figure out how to write Jim, I consulted people. Most work I ever did trying to write a story. Tell me how I did.<strong>


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